A/N: So, we got so bored waiting for CP to write the fourth book we decided that Blodgharm needed a fic of his own. This is post-Galby, he's dead, and Eragon's left Arya. Stupid bastard. Anywho, starts off in Ellesmera. Enjoy and review.
Disclaimer: I (sadly) own nothing.
Arya reclined on a rock at the lakeside, a wineskin in her hand. Three other skins sat on the ground beside her; one empty, two full. She hiccupped, her raven head lolling on her shoulders. "Arya Drottningu?" a male voice from behind her asked softly. "Wha…?" she looked over her shoulder with bloodshot eyes. "It's me, Blodgharm. Er, are you alright?" Arya shook her head. "Argh, it's those damned…. Men." She nodded, continuing, "Always just…lookin' for a quick shcrew. Never….never stickin' around….Sit." she patted the ground beside her. "Ya shee, Faolin, he, he was a great man. But then, then he goes and gets himshelf killed by a fuckin' shade. I…. loved him, that boy. And then, there's Eragon. Yup. Yup, bastard by all counts. Fucked me a good one in Illeria, best sex I'd had in years, then he heads off to Alalea…." She sighs. The blue furred elf knows he's awful with alcohol, but accepts the wineskin she thrusts into his hand. Gazing up into the green canopy, she takes a deep draught from her skin, emptying it. "Sho… you ever had a mate, furry boy?" Blodgharm is struck by the quality and above all, the potency of the delicious red wine Arya has given him. "Yeah. Her name was Sarah." His princess bobs her head stupidly. "Sarah. Sexy name. You ever fuck her?" if Blodgharm wasn't covered in fur, he'd be blushing the color of the tulips next to him. "Yes," he admits. "I fucked her." Arya shifts, and Blodgharm can't help but notice the roundness of her breasts. It's just the wine talking, he tells himself, even though he'd secretly been admiring the elf. Arya blusters a sigh. "Ah, they alwaysh walk off in the end… my poor Eragon without anyone to protect him…" she hiccupped.
Now, Blodgharm is on his second skin, and his head is floating nicely. Feeling bold, he scoots next to his princess. "But, I've always been able to appreciate a nice woman when I see one…" he trails off, and reaches a padded paw over to cup her breast. "Mmm… that feels nice," Arya slurs. She takes a long drink from her skin, tossing the empty in the lake, followed by Blodgharm's. She reaches over and runs a hand through the thick fur on his chest. "And I can appreciate a handsome mother fucker when I see one," she uncorks the last wineskin. "Best damned wine I ever….ever had." She takes a swig, offers it to Blodgharm. He knows, somewhere deep in his mind that he should probably turn down the wine and help his future ruler back to her dwelling, but lust kicks in, and he accepts. Raising it in a mock toast, he proposes, "To the lonely," Arya climbs into his lap, straddling him, steady for have just drank almost half a barrel of the queen's finest. "The lonely indeed." She repeats, and chugs the rest of the skin. Arya runs her fingers through the soft fur on Blodgharm's face. "Mm, I love a man with a beard," she says, and drunkenly kisses him. Blodgharm, smashed as he is, responds in kind, his clawed fingers working at Arya's tunic. Somewhere in his mind, there's a little voice telling him to stop, that this could have consequences. But then Arya's tunic finally comes off, and the spellcaster's attention is captured by her ivory globes. Instinct takes control, and he rolls her over onto the ground, struggling to get his tight loincloth undone.
The next morning
A songbird twittered his morning song from the treetops as the sun broke the horizon. Arya blinked her eyes open wearily. The noise hurt her head. She tried to rise, but to her dismay a certain blue, furry elf was draped across her naked chest. "Wha….? Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Blodgharm. Wake up." She shook his shoulder vigorously "Unghh," was his only response. "If someone sees us out here, we're both dead! Dead fifty times over!" talking made her head pound. Arya shook the other elf's shoulder, trying to push him off her. He rolled over, and she started scrambling for her clothes, shivering slightly in the morning air. She washed her face in the lake, then returned to the furred elf. "Blodgharm! Wake Up!" Arya was losing her cool. She kicked him in the ribs. "Ungh, wha…?" he raised his head off the ground just in time to have a wineskin of water squirted in his face, followed by his loincloth. "Get dressed!" Arya hissed, looking around for any other elves. Groaning, the blue elf dressed. "Did we…?" he asked, passing a hand through his wet fur, trying to smooth it. "Yes! Which is why we need to get the hell out of here!" Arya opened her mouth to hurry him along some more, but he leaned to the side and vomited. For an elf, he sure can't hold his liquor. Arya seized the elf by his mane and started to drag him up the small hill, causing him to let out a most unmanly shriek. She hauled him to his feet. "I'm going back to Ellesmera to get some sleep before my mother's meeting." And with those words she disappeared into the trees, leaving a crapulous Blodgharm in her wake.
"Arya Drottningu? Are you in?" a soft knock sounded on the screen door to Arya's dwelling, but to her it sounded like cannon fire. "Son of a…" she muttered, wrapping a blanket around herself as she went to the door. "What." The silver-haired elf on the other side blinked, clearly shocked by her unkempt appearance. "Er… Your mother sent me to find you and remind you that toady is the twenty-second and thus you are to have tea with her in her chambers." Arya's jaw dropped. "It's the twenty-second?" she squeaked, her eyes widening. "Yes ma'am. Is that…. Is that a problem?" Regaining her composure, Arya massaged her aching temples. "No, no problem, inform my mother that I'll be there shortly…" she closed the door and shuffled back into her room, tossing the blanket on the bed; she went to the wash basin and turned on the water as hot as it would go. Steam rose in curlicues around her as she lowered her aching, wine-smelling body into the water gingerly.She submerged in the water, only leaving enough of her face out of the water to breathe, where she stayed until the last bubble of soap had popped, having no guilt whatsoever at making her mother wait.
Feeling considerably better, she dried off, going to the chest of drawers that had been grown from the wall. She dressed in a dark green dress that went to her knees, attempting to appease her mother by looking "princessly." She pulled on soft cloth shoes to go with it, tied her hair back and walked down the corridor to her mother's throne room. Standing in front of the tall ebony doors she took a deep breath before she swung the door open. "Arya! There you are, I was starting to worry you'd forgotten!" Islanzadi swept across the room to embrace her daughter. She wrinkled her nose. "Have you been drinking again?" Arya grimaced inwardly, keeping her mask intact. "Oh well, no matter, have a seat." The queen gestured to a table in the middle of the room, set with a teapot and small shortbread crescents, as well as other dainty snacks. Arya's stomach grumbled appreciatively. She sat obediently, crossing her ankles. Islanzadi's handmaid poured the tea, then retreated with a bow. They sipped in silence for a moment before Islanzadi started in on her favorite topic: Arya's mate. "Now Arya, there's a perfectly nice young elf that lives just outside Nadindel; he's about your age, and oh, such, such a good dancer." Islanzadi gestured expansively as she waxed eloquently about the young suitor. Arya, meanwhile was resisting the urge to break her teacup and slit her wrists. "Mother, I already told you. I am not interested in getting mated and ruling a kingdom. And that is final." Islanzadi waved a hand. "Why must you insist on being such a loner all the time? Faolin's dead. Glenwing's dead. Eragon's, well, gone. Deal with it and move on." Arya gaped. "Mother! That was uncalled for!" the queen shrugged. "Hel-lo, I'm not getting any younger here, and the law clearly states that the new queen must have a mate before she can ascend the throne. So unless I can somehow make another princess appear out of nowhere, it's up to you," the teacup in Arya's hand shattered. "No." she turned on her heel and walked back down the aisle between the chairs reserved for the nobles, feeling more than a little like a small child.
A/N: So, a little bit of an awkward place to end a chapter, but I (Max) have a monster headache. Review, tell me what you think, I know this went a little too fast. It was like bam, she's drunk, bam, she's in the bath, bam…WTF? Yeah. SO. REVIEW.